


My Fill of Ambrosia

by Seeress



Series: Myths, Tales, and Lore [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, M/M, Yuzuru is the Fairest of All Time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeress/pseuds/Seeress
Summary: Yuzuru's grace and beauty is such as to make men weep and the gods themselves jealous. Javier is sent to deliver divine punishment. Oracles and prophecies. Sacred places. Frozen lakes. Love ever holds sway over gods and mortal men.





	1. Everything Has A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoistVonLipwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoistVonLipwig/gifts).



> “I know that I am mortal by nature, and ephemeral; but when I trace at my pleasure the windings to and fro of the heavenly bodies I no longer touch the earth with my feet: I stand in the presence of Zeus himself and take my fill of ambrosia." - Ptolemy

It is ironic that the Kingdom Where the Sun Rises is acclaimed not for its wealth, its armada, or its landscapes which are, in turn, considerable, powerful, and breathtaking but is instead known throughout the lands because of one youth whose beauty rivals that of the gods. 

Even as a child Yuzuru of the House Hanyu already showed promise of great beauty. His eyes are as dark as night and his soft lips is a perfect sweet bow. His skin is unblemished like the rare porcelain that traders sometimes bring from farther East. 

This promise of beauty is only to be expected. His mother, the queen, was renowned in her youth and to this day carries herself with a grace that charms all those who behold her. His older sister favors their mother and requests for her hand in marriage had begun to arrive since before her fourteenth summer.

But Yuzuru Hanyu exceeds all expectations. With great effort and at considerable expense men and women come from all the known lands to see him. They bear gifts as offering and say his name in reverent whispers. When he deigns to grace them with his presence tears of awe and joy flow unabashedly down their faces. People who see him feel blessed as if their crops have flourished and their skin ailments cured. 

For years, Yuzuru had scores of men and women brawling and dueling in his name until his aggrieved father, tired of hearing such reports, declared that any caught fighting in this manner would be banished from the kingdom. Fisticuffs still break out here and there but for the main the people behave themselves - the thought of being banished, of not being able to see Yuzuru is a threat that no one can bear. 

Though born of a royal house, Yuzuru has older siblings who had better right of rule. As a younger prince, he would be educated as befitting his status, be impressed with his responsibilities, and at an appropriate age be married off for a good alliance. He would be comfortably set up with a more than adequate income and a good estate.

But Fate has other plans.  


* * *

  
Yuzuru was born during winter solstice, his cries of life breaking the silence of the longest night of the year. As was custom, an oracle was consulted within an hour of his first breath. But the wisdom handed down by the gods caused consternation at the temple. The head priestess sent immediate word to the king and queen and wrought from all the attendants a vow of secrecy. 

Oracles are not infallible and oft times prophecies have a penchant for fulfilling themselves. But fated or not, a prophecy such as one given at Yuzuru’s birth signifies that the eyes of the gods - for good or for ill - are firmly fixed upon him.  


* * *

  
Prior to his fourth winter, Yuzuru was like most other young children. He played and giggled and ran away from his minders when he could. As a young prince with a sweet smile and chubby cheeks, young Yuzuru got away with more than he ought but he was nevertheless a kind child, gentle and affectionate. He was much attached to his older sister, Saya; his small hands would tug at her skirt always demanding attention. 

One day, a few months after he had turned four, young Yuzuru looked for his sister. She wasn’t in her rooms. She wasn’t in the library. Nor was she in the gardens. In fact, his sister Saya wasn’t in the palace grounds at all.

With a fiercesome pout on his lips, young Yuzuru marched up to one of his sister’s attendants and demanded that he be brought to where she is. He may be small but he is a prince and he demands to see his sister. He also tacked on a _please_ and a _thank you_ because his mother insists that politeness is important especially from little princes. 

The attendant swallowed her delight and amusement and solemnly informed young Yuzuru where Saya could be found. 

Having obtained permission from his mother and accompanied by an old but devoted manservant, young Yuzuru walked up the path towards the frozen lake where his older sister and her companions had chosen to spend their afternoon. He could hear laughter while still far off and grew equal parts impatient and excited. 

What young Yuzuru saw that day _transformed_ him. 

When he got back to the palace young Yuzuru went directly to his father and asked for a pair of skates of his own. The king took in the serious look, ill-fitting in the face of one so young and did not laugh. He was wise enough to recognize when the winds of fate blew on their lives.

The ice skates were not easy to be had. They are made only by the finest metalworkers up at the Black Mountains. Saya’s pair was a gift, a tribute from one of the lesser noble houses whose territory bordered the foot of the mountains. They were expensive and took time to craft. The first was not truly a problem considering his father’s wealth but the second caused young Yuzuru an anguish that was almost physical pain. 

While waiting for his ice skates, young Yuzuru pestered Saya to skate for him. Every day he would beg his sister and everyday she would smile and accede to his request. With his small hand in hers, they would walk up the path to the frozen lake and she would skate while young Yuzuru sat by the bank and watched, his entire being yearning to be on the ice himself. 

After what felt like an interminably long time, young Yuzuru’s ice skates arrived and he took to the ice for the first time. Saya held his hand while he learned to skate forwards and do his turns, his amply padded tush hitting the ice a few times as he learned his balance. But soon enough it became clear that Yuzuru was born to be on the ice. Beyond those first minutes where he learned the mechanics of it, Yuzuru skated as if he had been doing it all his life.  


* * *

  
There are places sacred to the gods. The touch of the divine is unmistakable. A glade where there is eternal summer. A forest where the birds are larger than usual with eyes that follow you with keen intelligence. A fresh spring with waters that appease the tiredness of body and soul. 

The lake never unfreezes. The seasons change but the lake remains the same. 

Yuzuru’s daily commune with the ice becomes a tribute to all the gods that care to watch.  


* * *

  
In the early years, Yuzuru would play on the ice accompanied only by his faithful manservant. More often than not his mother would be there giving gentle encouragement. His family and their attendants would sometimes come by to watch, a few friends, some families from the village near the lake. 

As the years passed, more and more people came to watch Yuzuru skate. At some point, his father took to posting guards on the path to turn people away. It wasn’t only a concern for the safety of his son. The king was worried about offending the gods. Too many people at the sacred place might be perceived as disrespectful. 

But such is the nature of man that what you cannot have, you yearn for more desperately. Those who are fortunate enough to see Yuzuru skate go down the path singing poetic songs in praise leading to more and more people to line up in the hopes of being allowed to see this wonder for their own eyes. 

Yuzuru’s anxious parents consulted with the priestesses. They devised a plan where Yuzuru would perform for the public on certain days for a few months of the year. All other times the frozen lake would remain serene with only Yuzuru and his few companions in attendance. 

By the time Yuzuru had reached his sixteenth summer, his fame had long since spread throughout the lands. What had been sweet and charming for his family to watch when he was four had blossomed to performances that made people weep, the unbidden tears the only way they could express the weight of their emotions as they watch him glide across the ice.  


* * *

* * *

  
As befitting a god, Javier is beautiful. 

As befitting the god of love, Javier is one of the most beautiful creatures that has ever walked the heavens or the mortal realm. To behold him is to desire him. His youthful appearance, the soft, dark curls that frame his handsome features, his eyes so dark as to be almost black fringed with long lashes, full lips perpetually curved into a knowing smile. The well defined muscles, the way he stands, the playful tilt of his head. His presence incites ardour and inflames passions. 

Such is his nature.

Javier has taken lover after lover from the ranks of gods who are almost - but not quite - as beautiful as him and from those of mortal men who are slightly less beautiful than the gods. 

He is fickle. He is playful. He wounds with his arrows and goes away with laughter on his lips. 

One fine day in early spring, Javier is summoned by his mother. The god of tricks himself, wings upon his heels, delivers the message. 

Javier is at his favorite glade with his head pillowed on the lap of a woodland nymph who is threading wildflowers in his hair. Another nymph sits by his head and feeds him sweet, freshly plucked berries while yet another sits by his hip, playfully tossing her hair and laughing at him in delight. The wind flits about them in curiosity, the breeze accompanied by a sound not unlike windchimes. 

Javier smiles at the emissary and invites him to stay a while and share life’s pleasures. The newcomer accepts the invitation with a laugh. Not even a god like himself can resist Javier’s charms. 

It takes Javier some weeks before he finally presents himself to the goddess of love. He had been _pleasantly_ distracted. The messenger, still in a tangle of naked limbs, had langorously waved his hand towards Javier as he dressed himself, blessing his travels. 

Javier’s appearance should have put his mother in a good mood. He knows she looks at him with pride, sees him as an extension of herself, a reflection of her beauty and power. 

The goddess of love, however, was in a rage as she has not been since the time she tried to claim the golden apple inscribed with the words “for the most beautiful” and was told it was not hers by right but must be adjudged. Still there is no frothing in the mouth, no narrowing of eyes, or crinkling of the brow. 

Even in anger, love is cruelly beautiful. 

Javier tempts, charms and cajoles but the goddess of love will not be appeased. There is someone in the East who dares claim to be the fairest of all time. People _worship_ him for his beauty and grace. The arrogant creature must be punished and Javier - beautiful, dutiful son that he is - will deliver the blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up one day and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/onewhiteblossom) was ablaze with [Yuzu and Javi in fairy tale AU fanart](https://twitter.com/monji_and/status/1030724499056996352). There was much shrieking, chest clutching, and almost dying. But I didn't die and the torment continued. I began thinking of ways how to tell the story in the background of Greek mythology but couldn't make the narrative fit. Then the wonderful MoistVonLipwig said _Eros and Psyche_ and things clicked. 
> 
> You don't need to know the story of the god of love and his bride. I will just be borrowing inspiration from it, not re-telling the tale. The Greek myth bears startling resemblance to the fairy tale East of the Sun and West of the Moon and I had to choose whether to go with gods or fairy magic. Obviously I went with the gods. I shall do fairy magic another time.


	2. We All Walk Down Fate's Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier meets Yuzuru for the first time and is filled with curiosity.

Javier takes his time travelling. 

He dims his godly aura and hides his perfect, golden wings. He bears a torch, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. 

He frequents inns and sleeps with the innkeepers’ daughters. He sleeps in stables and makes love to the stable boys. He sometimes stays in manors, bedding its mistress or its master - or both - or out in the fields under the evening sky in the company of nymphs or other travellers.

He never quite looks the same to everyone. Sometimes his hair is long, sometimes shorn. Sometimes his skin is kissed by the sun, sometimes he is as pale as moonlight. Some days his body is that of a hardened warrior, some days he would have that of a stripling youth. 

The changes are both conscious on Javier’s end and unconscious on the part of the beholder. People see love in different ways and love colors what they see.

Regardless of the differences Javier is always, _always_ beautiful.  


* * *

  
It isn’t long after Javier starts his journey that he first hears someone speak of Yuzuru. 

He is at a tavern, making sweet eyes at the pretty lass that served him his meal. The man at the table across from his is a peddler whose feet takes him all over the land in search of small items to trade or barter. The man recounts how he once saw Yuzuru skate when he was but a child of twelve summers. Yuzuru had been full of life and the very air around him joyfully shouted _Sing, Sing, Sing!_

The man has a faraway look in his eyes looking at a scene only he could see. 

The farther Javier travels to the East, the more the scene repeats itself until it has become familiar. Merchants and traders are the most common, their occupation giving them the means and opportunity to journey and see Yuzuru dance on the ice.

Sometimes the tale would come as a retelling of what someone else had seen or heard. Javier figures that these stories grow in the telling and take it with an abundance of salt. 

Other times, however, Javier would encounter someone who had seen Yuzuru with their own eyes. Almost invariably, these would be wealthy people for the way to the Kingdom Where the Sun Rises is long and requires a good amount of coin. But sometimes they would be ordinary people who scrimped and saved so that they could go and see Yuzuru dance in person. 

And even though Javier could doubt the truthfulness of second hand stories, everyone he meets who has seen Yuzuru dance always recounts the experience with tears in their eyes. 

Every single one of them.  


* * *

  
Javier does not overly tarry in any one place. But neither does he travel directly to the East. He meanders here, he rambles there; sometimes going North, sometimes going South.

He is searching for something. 

Javier has been tasked to find a groom for Yuzuru. As penance for his arrogance and pride, the goddess of love had bid Javier make Yuzuru fall in love with the most hideous, most vile creature he could find. 

Man or Beast.  


* * *

  
Eventually, long after the goddess of harvest has cloaked the fields for slumber and her daughter gone back to her husband in the Underworld, Javier finds himself at the Kingdom Where the Sun Rises. 

At a glance Javier can see that it is a prosperous kingdom. The people are well-fed and mannerly. They live in comfort in well-made structures amidst ancient trees and peaceful rivers. With winter upon them there are few people on the streets and what little is there walk hurriedly in an attempt to escape the harsh cold.

Javier himself is not affected by the freezing temperatures other than to register that the wind has a certain bite to it that is unlike the soft summer breeze that he prefers. But he has on a cloak that is a bit battered and tattered from his journey and makes a passable imitation of a man who is in want of a warm shelter.

He enters the first inn he finds and settles down near the warm hearth. He has hidden away his torch but the bow and arrow are plain to see. It is not unusual for a traveler to be armed. The roads are dangerous and even more so during winter when hungry beasts abound.

The serving girl places a bowl of steaming broth in front of him and dashes away giggling. He smiles at the retreating form and there is a collective intake of breath from the people in the common room. Javier busies himself with eating and the people around him slowly go back to themselves, the chatter returning to normal as they forget the god in their midst.

It takes no time at all for the conversation around him to turn to Yuzuru and his feats. The people in the inn are mostly locals, people who had lived in this kingdom for years. They had seen Yuzuru grow up, were even likely there when the royal courier announced his birth. 

Their tone contrasts with those of people Javier encountered in his journey. There is pride in their voices, a sense of kinship with Yuzuru’s accomplishments. They see him as one of their own and they are inordinately proud. 

He soon steps back outside and plucks a passing gust of wind. He asks where Yuzuru can be found. The cold wind bites and howls and leads Javier to the palace gates where the guards pay him no heed when he crosses the threshold. He follows the cold wind down a winding path and pushes open a small gate that leads to the gardens. 

The garden is stark white at this time, the unbroken snow covering everything. At the far end, sitting inside what would be a flower decked gazebo in spring, is an older boy. His hair as dark as night, his lips of the softest pink the only color on his otherwise pale skin. On his lap sleeps a small, bear-like creature with yellowish fur, the bright shade a stark contrast against the white of winter and the boy’s black raiment. The boy is lost in thought, his slender fingers gently carding through the fur both to seek and give comfort. 

Javier looks at boy with curiosity. There is no one else in the gardens and his guide has already blown away in a flurry of snowflakes. 

This _must_ be Yuzuru. 

Javier can see how Yuzuru is fairer than most men but he is hardly one to claim the title fairest of all time. Javier can call to mind many mortals who are as beautiful as this boy in front of him, if not more. Javier thinks for instance of his play fellow and companion, the young cupbearer to the gods, and cannot in good conscience say that this Yuzuru can rival him. 

There is beauty there, yes, but it is of the quiet kind and Javier cannot credit that it is such as can cause grown men to weep at the memory of him. 

Javier thinks there must be something there. Else why would his mother be consumed with jealousy. Why would people brave the harsh roads to see him. Why would his name be whispered in wondrous tones and with bated breaths.

And because the god of love is curious, he does something quite unlike himself.  


* * *

  
“Hello, there.”

Yuzuru looks up in surprise. He had come to the gardens to be alone and had not expected company.

He sees before him a young man, a few years older than himself. It is easily apparent that he is not from this place, his dark curls a contrast to Yuzuru’s fine hair, his skin darker, his features not soft but chiseled. Not old enough nor his clothes prosperous enough to be one of the merchants who trade with the palace. An apprentice perhaps, Yuzuru thinks. People do not travel the winter roads without cause or reason.

“Hello.” Yuzuru looks around and does not see anyone else. 

“Are you lost?” he asks the stranger. The traders gate is far the palace gardens.

“I do not think so. I am usually where I want to be,” the stranger responds with a smile.

Yuzuru is somewhat taken aback at the response but responds with a smile of his own. “That is quite a trick. I almost feel I envy you.”

The young man raises an eyebrow. “You are a prince. What is there for you to envy a traveler like me?”

Yuzuru is not surprised that the stranger knows who he is. 

“I am pushed and pulled in all directions until I do not know where to go,” he says and the truthfulness of his answer _does_ surprise him. 

“Is that why you are here, alone in the cold?”

“I came here to think. I do not mind the cold,” Yuzuru says, shaking his head. “The ice calls to me.”

“What else calls to you?”

“Duty. It weighs ever heavy upon me,” Yuzuru replies. 

“Everyone has their own. Why is yours any heavier?”

“Because they mean for me _not_ to bear it. They mean for me to stay with my beloved ice and ignore my duties to my father, my people, my kingdom. They have raised me to know my responsibilities and now they push me to ignore it.” Yuzuru sighs. 

“But I do so love the ice,” he says, almost a whisper.

The young man approaches until he is just inside the gazebo. “I do not understand. They push you to do what you want to do. How is that a burden?”

“What of my people?” Yuzuru says, his dark eyes troubled, haunted. “How can I be with my beloved ice when my people have need of me? How can i be so vain and selfish as to think only of myself?”

Yuzuru goes back to stroking his pet’s fur, embarrassed at his outburst. He does not see how the young man looks at him in quiet contemplation.

“I have heard of you in my travels,” the stranger finally says, breaking the silence. “You are Yuzuru Hanyu.”

Yuzuru nods, eyes still fixed upon the pet on his lap.

“I have heard great things about you.”

Yuzuru does not nod this time.

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you dance on your beloved ice?”

Yuzuru looks up and meets brown eyes framed in thick lashes. 

“There is a frozen lake up the hill, north east of the palace. I go there everyday,” he says softly. Yuzuru blinks then breaks into an impish smile. “If you can get past the guards, you are more than welcome to watch me dance.” 

“I must go,” Yuzuru says, before the young man can respond. He is uneasy at the way his heart is beating, too fast, as a jackrabbit. He gathers the sleeping creature in his arms and stands up. “The sun will soon set and the cold will be too much to bear. You too must hurry to find your own shelter,” he cautions.

“May I tell you my name?”

Yuzuru smiles. “If you are able to find your way past the guards, you may tell me then.”  


* * *

  
Javier retraces his steps towards the town. He returns to the inn and its keepers are happy enough to accept his custom. Travelers are few and far during winter season. 

He spends the evening in the common room, listening to the idle chatter of the townsfolk, his ears perking up whenever a certain black-haired, black-eyed boy is mentioned. 

Yuzuru is seventeen it seems, older than Javier took him to be in the gardens. While he used to run around town when he was younger, he is mostly cooped up in the palace these days away from the crowds or up at the frozen lake. He is polite. He is kind. He is reserved. He is dutiful. 

He is beautiful.

Javier listens in and the more the hears, the more his curiosity. 

He smiles at the serving girl, the same one from before, and she slips into his bed after the inn is put to sleep. As Javier drifts to slumber, his body calm and sated, he dreams of eyes black as night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was doing research for this fic I realized I had forgotten that Eros was play fellow to [Ganymede](https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/youth/beauty-and-beast), the beautiful mortal prince that Zeus, in his guise as an eagle, spirited away to Olympus to be his lover and cup bearer to the gods. The gods do like 'em pretty young boys.


	3. We Knew Each Other When

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier watches Yuzuru dance for the first time. And many times thereafter.

Javier wakes up the next day closer to mid morning than dawn. He opens the windows and catches a passing gust of wind. He bids it watch the frozen lake and come for him when Yuzuru makes his appearance. That done, he settles down for an unhurried break to his fast then takes a walk around town. 

The day is not as chilly as the one before and there are more people about. There is, however, a distinct lack of children running along the streets. Javier thinks he will have to do something about it. 

His feet takes him on a winding route that eventually leads to where he truly wants to go. By the time the little wind finds him, flitting and howling in excitement, he is already on his way up the path. The two guards standing at the foot of hill had not hindered him and neither does the two standing at the top.

He feels the blessing of nature deities upon the place and bows his head in acknowledgement. They are of different spheres of influence - nature and love - but Javier likes things to be pleasant and it is always good to be polite to your fellow gods.

There are benches built in a ring around the lake, each one higher than the one before it. He selects a spot, waving his hand to do away with the covering slush and settles down to watch.

Yuzuru is dancing on the ice. There is no other word for it. He glides and arches his back and moves his body in spins and spirals, in twists and turns, his arms ever moving, his hips swaying to a tune only he can hear. His eyes are unfocused. Or perhaps too focused.

Javier wonders what it is that he sees. What it is that he hears.  


* * *

  
Yuzuru finishes his spin and comes to a stop, breathing heavily. He skates to his manservant whose hands are already held out with a ready cloth and a cup of water. Yuzuru takes one and then the other with a brief nod in thanks. He stops in the act of wiping his face when he sees the figure lounging almost indolently on the other side of the lake. 

He glides across the ice and stops in front of the stranger from the gardens. His every movement as graceful as a swallow in flight.

“Hello again,” Yuzuru says. “I see you managed to get past the guards.”

“I have many talents. Getting past guards is but one of them,” the stranger says with a smile.

“I did not notice you arrive. Were you watching long?” Yuzuru asks. He is unsure why he is engaging this man in conversation. He is usually not one to talk to strangers, avoiding crowds if he could.

“Almost from the beginning. I am not surprised you did not see me. You were lost in your own world.”

“I do that, get lost in the dance,” Yuzuru agrees. 

“You seem to be hard of breathing. Are you alright?” the stranger asks, a frown marring his handsome features.

Yuzuru nods almost impatiently. “My lungs are weak and I tire easily.”

“And yet you do this everyday.”

It wasn’t a question but Yuzuru nods nevertheless. “For a few hours. I take care not to overtire myself. It was worse when I was a child.”

“You did not look tired on the ice. You danced as a water nymph frolicking in the rivers.”

Yuzuru preened, pleased at the compliment. 

“What was it that you were dancing earlier?”

“It wasn’t anything in particular. I just was. But if you come again tomorrow, I can dance for you. I am too tired to do it now,” Yuzuru says wryly.

“Then I shall be here tomorrow.”

Yuzuru smiles and turns to go. 

“I have not yet told you my name,” the stranger calls out.

Yuzuru turns back to face him. “And what _is_ your name?”

Javier smiles. “Perhaps I shall tell you tomorrow.”

Yuzuru laughs, delighted. “Tomorrow then.”  


* * *

  
Javier spends the rest of the day in different taverns and inns around the town. He goes from one to the other, having a drink, perhaps a meal. He smiles and nods at people he meets as he walks down the streets. 

No one thinks it odd that nine months to the day, many of the women in town gives birth to babes.  


* * *

  
The next day is a repeat of the one before except Javier heads up the hill as soon as he is done with his morning meal. He does not need the mortal sustenance but it is expected and something to do to pass the time.

Javier is there to see Yuzuru arrive with his manservant and a handful of attendants bearing lyres and tympanons. Yuzuru nods in his direction but ignores him otherwise. He is focused. He takes to the ice and does more of the dancing that he did the previous day. 

Like the day before, Yuzuru wears an attire of black pants and short coat. Javier cannot tell what it is made of but the material seems too thin for a weather like today. It hugs Yuzuru’s body, outlining his youthful form. 

After what seems to Javier to be a pre-arranged cue, the attendants pose to a ready and Yuzuru sheds his short coat. Underneath is a glittering, fitted blouse with one shoulder bared. It has captured the striking beauty of the Aegean sea. The deep blue of the ocean giving rise to white foam as the waves hit the shore.

Yuzuru takes to the center of the frozen lake and lifts his arms like a bird about to take flight.  


* * *

  
There is a moment when Javier feels the very air around him go still in anticipation. 

There is a moment before Yuzuru starts to move to the powerful, passionate beat of an _Etude_ with ever increasing complexity. 

And then Javier is entranced.  


* * *

  
Yuzuru finishes the dance with his arms outstretched to the sky. He bows to the four corners then skates to Javier. 

“How did you find it?” Yuzuru asks. He is sweating profusely despite the cold, chest heaving in exertion. 

“I have never seen anything like it,” Javier answers truthfully.

“And how did I compare? To what you have heard in your travels.”

“I had thought the tales exaggerated. Now I see they do not do you justice at all.”

Yuzuru smiles. He is tired, having given his all for this one man. But the answers please him. 

“When we were in the gardens yesterday, you were torn between your duty and your love for the ice.”

Yuzuru nods hesitantly, uneasy with the topic.

“I think I now understand why they mean for you to keep skating. I have never seen anyone move like you do. You touch people with what you do on the ice. Perhaps, more than anything, that _is_ your duty.”

Yuzuru frowns. 

“We all have our places under the sun,” Javier continues. “We all have duties foisted upon us. And there are some that we alone are fit to do. Few are lucky enough that what they want to do is what they ought to do.”

Yuzuru is quiet, biting his lip. “I shall think about you said.”

Javier bows his head gracefully.

“I thank you for this dance. It was most wonderful.”

Yuzuru smiles again, the somber mood broken. “Now that I have danced for you, will you give me a name with which to call you?” he asks.

“Perhaps I shall tell you tomorrow,” Javier says with a smile.

Yuzuru skates away laughing.  


* * *

  
“Your breathing seems better today.”

“It varies. Some days are better than others. Some seasons are _worse_ than others.”

“And yet you still skate.”

“I cannot give up the ice.”

“No, I suppose you cannot.”  


* * *

  
“Why do you insist on doing that jump? Falling on the ice cannot be pleasant.”

“I will master it. Eventually. I only need to practice more.”

“In the meantime, you will keep hitting the ice.”

“In the meantime, yes.”  


* * *

  
“Your foot is bleeding, Yuzuru!”

“It does that.”

“You should have stopped!”

“If I stop every time my feet bleed, I will not be able to dance at all.”

“Do you mean to say this happens everyday?”

“Most days, yes.”

“You never show pain. You barely show tiredness.”

“I hide it away and only show the wonder.”  


* * *

  
“It’s a good thing this lake never unfreezes. You have a constant source of ice for your bruises.”

“Today was just a bad day.”

“If you say so.”  


* * *

  
“Congratulations on completing the jump!”

“Thank you.”

“You were right.”

“It will get better. I know how to do it now.”  


* * *

  
“I don’t think he approves of me.”

“Kikuchi-san thinks you’re a distraction.”

“Am I? Distracting you?”

“No. You push me to dance better. You remind me why I want to dance in the first place.”  


* * *

  
“It is just a bad day. You were able to do it yesterday, you will be able to do it tomorrow. You’ll see.”

“Oof!! I cannot do anything right!”

“Breathe, Yuzuru.”  


* * *

  
“Of my siblings, I am fond of my sister Saya the most.”

“She is older?”

“Yes. I would like to think she is fondest of me as well.”

A pause.

“Well, she is the most patient at least.”

“I would wager you were an incorrigible child.”

“I was the model of docility and obedience.”

“How do you say that with a straight face?”

“Practice.”  


* * *

  
“Do you know that the people in town think of you as polite and quiet?”

“Do they really?”

“Yes. Poor, deluded souls.”  


* * *

  
“I danced as a swan, once. I had black and purple feathers.”

“I wish I had seen it.”

“I shall dance as a swan another day. You can watch me then.”

“I look forward to it.”  


* * *

  
“I still have nightmares of the ground shaking.”

“What do you when you get them?”

“I go to the ice and dance.”  


* * *

  
“Are you actually good with that bow?”

“I am a passable shot.”

“False modesty does not become you.”

“I can hit my mark with more ease than most, yes.”

“I had wanted to learn to use one when I was younger, if only to live up to my name.”

“Your name?”

“Yuzuru means a bowstring pulled tight.”

“And Hanyu?”

“Born unto wings.”  


* * *

  
“ _Yuzu_?!”

“You don’t like it?”

“Hmm. I suppose I can live with it.”

“Then ‘Yuzu’ it is.”  


* * *

  
“Yuzu.”

“Yes?”  


* * *

  
“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Perhaps I shall tell you tomorrow.”  


* * *

  
“It’s 'Javi'.”

“What is ‘Javi’?”

“My name."

“Oh. Hello, Javi.”  


* * *

  
Yuzuru smiles and dances on the ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They sound so posh but whatever. I haven't read the _Iliad_ in years ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. You Will Find Another To Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuzuru gets heartbroken and grows up a little.

Javier walks along the market street in idle curiosity when the little cold wind finds him. It tugs at his coat, twirling its agitation. 

_Yuzuru_ howls the wind. 

Javier gathers power and clothes himself with it like a cloak. The mundane world pauses for a long heartbeat to accommodate the god in their midst. When the world resumes its turning, the market street is missing one young man in traveler’s clothes.

Half a breath later Javier lands softly in the palace gardens. He sees Yuzuru in the gazebo. The young mortal is obviously in distress but otherwise unharmed. The fist that twists in Javier’s gut unclenches. His golden wings shimmer until they disappear, like morning mist before the sun.

“Yuzu,” Javier calls out. His voice is soft but carries with it remnants of his true being.

Yuzuru looks up, meets his eyes, and the beautiful black eyes glaze over. 

Javier pauses and draws his mundane cloak closer around himself. He waits until Yuzuru shakes himself, coming to his senses. 

“Is something wrong? You seem distressed,” Javier says, walking towards the youth.

“No, nothing is wrong.”

Javier waits patiently. Yuzuru is fit enough to burst and Javier knows if he waits long enough, the youth would tell him his troubles.

“Nothing is wrong,” Yuzuru repeats. “I am being a child. A child who cannot play with his favorite toy,” Yuzuru says irritably. 

The pout is childish and the tone petulant but there is real emotion in the downward slope of his shoulders and the darkness of his eyes.

“In many ways, you are still one,” Javier says, tone gentle. “Care to tell me about it?”

“Saya is getting married.” Yuzuru announces this as if it should be followed by a death knell. 

“I see. Does she object to the match? The groom is unfit for her?” Javier knows that marriages between noble houses are not likely to be a love match.

Yuzuru sighs. “No. Our father would not place her in a house where she will not be cared for. It is a good match. She will go to a worthy house,” he says almost begrudgingly.

“She is unhappy?”

“No, not really. She is excited. But she is hesitant to leave me. And I…” Yuzuru trails off.

“You don’t want your sister to leave,” Javier finishes.

Yuzuru nods. “I _knew_ she was getting married. They’ve been talking about it for ages. But it only just hit me today that she’d be leaving.” Yuzuru names a kingdom far into the North, several weeks journey from here. “I might never see her again.”

“That is how these things go, Yuzu. You find someone and join with them, leaving your parents, your siblings.”

“I know. It’s only that I love her so and my heart is breaking.” 

Javier is certainly no stranger to heartbreak and he can see that Yuzuru’s heart is indeed breaking in pieces.

“Would you feel better if I tell you she will be happy with her husband? That he will care for her until the end of his days.”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “He seems a decent enough man but you cannot know that.”

“She will be happy with her husband, Yuzu. This I promise.” Javier says, once again allowing threads of his real self to color his words.

“I…”

Javier leans in and cups Yuzuru’s cheek with his warm hand. “And you, little Yuzu, will find another to love. This I promise as well.”

“I’m going up to the lake,” Yuzuru says when he comes to, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I need to be with the ice.”

Javier nods. “I will come with you.”

Yuzuru tells a passing attendant where he is going but does not wait for a companion. He is silent on the path and Javier does not disturb him.  


* * *

  
Yuzuru pours his anguish on the ice. He skates as half a pair of star-crossed lovers, forbidden by familial duties to be together. He screams out his torment and mimes stabbing himself with a knife, all the while dancing on the ice. He stumbles, overcome with emotion, but picks himself up and dances some more.

The god of love is captivated. It is the finest ode he has ever received.  


* * *

  
Marriage, strictly speaking, is not within Javier’s domain for love flourishes where it may regardless of formality. But a goodly portion of lovers do end up saying wedding vows and so he often finds himself a witness to the occasion. There is a joy and anticipation in weddings that lights his senses abuzz. 

Admittedly, there is more joy in some weddings than in others. 

Javier looses two arrows, as quick as a heartbeat, as light as breath. Shafts ebony black, the gold tipped arrows find their marks; a black haired woman’s breast and that of her groom.

Where there was once only expediency and some measure of respect, room grows for love to bloom.  


* * *

  
“I am beginning to have my suspicions of you, Javi,” Yuzuru says in between sips of water. 

It is a beautiful day. The air is still cold but the snow has long since melted. Javier can feel the thrum of life striving to break through the hard ground. Spring is almost upon them.

“I had taken you for an apprentice but you are here almost every day.” Yuzuru continues. “Are you instead one of those indolent youths that cause their mothers to despair?” 

Javier laughs and Yuzuru is charmed. 

“You are close to the truth, if you only knew. My mother does despair of me,” Javier says with an easy smile. “But I am no one’s apprentice. I am here for an errand.” 

Javier frowns at this. 

“I have yet to accomplish it,” he says slowly. “Until that is done, my time is mine,” he finally says after a pause, shrugging.

Yuzuru tilts his head in question. “Shouldn’t you be working towards accomplishing your errand than lingering here watching me dance?”

Javier continues to frown. “Do you think so? I had not thought much of it one way or another when it was first given me but now I find it… distasteful.”

The furrows on Javier’s forehead deepens. 

Yuzuru breaks the silence. “Our time of idle talk together is about to end in any event,” he offers.

“What do you mean?” Javier asks, distracted from his thoughts.

“Winter is ending. Soon these seats will be filled with people watching me.”

“Does it bother you that they watch?” Javier asks.

“No,” Yuzuru says truthfully, shaking his head. “I want them to see me, see me dance on the ice. I would dance for people every day if it was possible.”

“Why don’t you?”

Yuzuru smiles. “That would make it impossible to mask the pains I suffer through. I only want them to see the wonders.”

“You are a perfectionist. And also quite vain.”

Yuzuru laughs. “I have never claimed to be otherwise.”  


* * *

  
Spring comes and Javier acquiesces to the ever increasing calls of his duties. 

People have shaken the cold from their bones and are out and about in meadows and fields, in town streets and alleys. Eyes meet, fingers brush against each other, tentative kisses turn hot with ardour. 

It is a time for love and Javier is needed everywhere. Love blooms where he goes and he goes wherever love blooms. 

But his thoughts remain far to the East where a boy dances on a lake that never unfreezes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing Yuzu in Helsinki plus listening to Stephen Fry narrate the story of Eros and Psyche led to me opening my fic folder and finding this chapter. I dusted it off, snipped a little at the end (leaving this chapter to clock in at a measly 1300 words) and used to that begin the next chapter, which I hope to post much sooner than it took to post this chapter. Apologies for those who were waiting.
> 
> If you wish to learn or brush up on your Greek mythology, I heartily recommend Stephen Fry's _Mythos_ , a retelling of the myths via British humor. It's informative, hilarious at times, and always engaging.


	5. Measuring the Passage of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javi comes back and Yuzu is not quite the same boy he left behind.

Time flows differently for gods. What are the passing of days when one is immortal. Seasons change and gods remain the same. Why mark one winter when another and yet another will come along soon enough.

But life for mortals is measured with the passage of time. 

By the time Javier returns to the frozen lake, winter solstice has come again twice and Yuzuru marks his nineteenth year. As tribute to the great god of earthquakes with whose festival he shares his day of birth, Yuzuru crafts a special performance on the ice. 

He moves to an easy, laid back beat that reminds Javier of the handsome Paris confidently walking the streets of Troy. Javier marvels at how languid Yuzuru looks on the ice, moving his shoulders and snapping his fingers with ease and confidence when Javier knows how much effort it actually takes to look that effortless. 

Yuzuru smirks, nods his head at the crowd, gestures suggestively at his hips, all done in time with the beat. The crowd shrieks. 

Javier finds himself faintly amused and more than a little disturbed at the sight. This Yuzuru is a far cry from the incorrigible but sweet boy he had left behind. This Yuzuru deliberately entices the crowd with his cool swagger and, to Javier’s horrified delight, it was working. 

It is a disquieting moment for the god of love. For an entire season while the world was blanketed with white, Yuzuru had danced for Javier alone. Two years later and Yuzuru is making love to an audience that is screaming his name. 

Yuzuru continues to dance on the ice and Javier watches.

* * *

“Hello, Yuzu.”

Yuzuru looks up from tying his skates and the surprised delight that suffuses his face is a balm to Javier’s ruffled emotions. The young prince glides towards him, graceful but eager, and throws himself into Javier’s arms.

“Javi! Javi, you’re back!” Yuzu cries excitedly.

Javier notes the changes in his young friend. He has grown taller. His face still has that soft boyish look but has lost some of the rounded curves in his cheeks. He has already seen that Yuzuru is better on the ice. 

The unchanging immortal marvels how two winters could work such transformation. Yuzuru is now as tall as Javier in this form. As he looks at Yuzuru’s smiling, adoring face, Javier cannot help but notice that Yuzuru has become more beautiful.

“I have missed you. You were gone so long I didn’t know if I would see you again!” Yuzuru says, eyes alight, lips curved in a smile as bright as the sun and still in Javier’s arms.

“I had promised to return, had I not?” Javier replies, smiling back.

“Do you keep all your promises?” Yuzuru asks, head inclined in curiosity.

Javier thinks of despondent faces and despairing cries when love moves on. 

“When I mean to,” he replies solemnly, cupping Yuzuru’s face with his palm. “And I did mean to, Yuzu. I had thought of you often while I was away.”

Yuzuru smiles back even brighter than before. “I am glad you’re back, Javi.”

“So am I,” he replies.

Yuzuru finally steps back from Javier’s arms and does a little pirouette on the ice. “If you had returned but a day early, you could have seen me dance. I had a special performance.”

“I saw it,” Javier replies.

“You did?” Yuzuru looks back in surprise. 

Javier nods. 

“What did you think of it?” he says, waiting expectantly.

“You have gotten better since I saw you last. But I think you know that,” Javier says.

Yuzuru smiles. “I do but there is always room to grow.” 

“That dance,” Javier says slowly, as if unsure how to broach the topic, “it was different from how you danced before.” 

Yuzuru smiles the impish smile that Javier has grown very familiar with. “A little, yes. But the people loved it.”

“Yes, they did,” Javier agrees.

“Before that, I had a performance where I took off my coat and drew a heart on my chest,” Yuzuru giggles, tickled by the memory.

“I… did not see that one,” Javier says.

“They loved it as well,” Yuzuru says. 

“I am sure that they did.” Javier does not snort. He merely blows air rather quickly from his nose. Gods are too solemn and important to snort. 

* * *

They pick up where they left off as if the two years they did not share each other’s lives had not happened. Yuzuru dances everyday and Javier watches. They talk while Yuzuru rests and before he heads back to the palace. They exchange sweet smiles and good mornings, loud laughter, soft snickers, and see you tomorrows. Kikuchi-san make grumbling noises but never chases Javier away. 

Sometimes Yuzuru’s mother and her attendants would come. Javier charms her, of course, and Yuzuru would roll his eyes, amused at his mother, exasperated with his friend.

Yuzuru keeps to a specific routine, a schedule that seldom varies. He comes to the frozen lake just after mid-morning and dances. In the afternoons, he exercises to build strength and maintain flexibility, then joins his tutors for lessons. 

Javier occupies himself during these times. There is never a shortage of people to charm and places to look good in. He leaves a little gust of wind to keep an eye on Yuzuru, allowing Javier to surprise him, showing up unexpected in the palace gardens just when Yuzuru escapes from his lessons. 

“Should I be worried how you keep slipping past my father’s guards?” Yuzuru said musingly. “It does not exactly inspire confidence in the palace security.”

Javier returns Yuzuru’s smile. “Your father’s guards love me.” 

Yuzuru snorts, almost daintily. 

“Everyone loves me,” the god of love says, smile indolent.

“Everyone?” Yuzuru asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well, maybe not Kikuchi-san,” Javi replies. “But he will come around. He actually stopped glaring at me for half a minute the other day.”

Yuzuru laughs, peals of happiness and sunshine, “If anyone can win him over, Javi, you can.”

Javier raises an eyebrow.

“No. That was _not_ a challenge.” Yuzuru says, still laughing.

“Where is he anyway? He usually lurks within shouting distance of where you are.”

“He went to town to see the festival,” Yuzuru says.

“He is not accompanying you?” Javier asks, surprised. 

Yuzuru shakes his head. “I do not go.”

“Why not?” Javier asks.

“I used to, when I was little. I remember seeing the lights, my hand tucked in my mother’s.” Yuzuru says, wistful, a half smile at the old memory. 

“Why do you not go anymore?” Javier prods.

“When my mother or my siblings go to town, the people bow or curtsy but then go their way.” Yuzuru pauses. “There is more commotion for my father, of course.”

“I suppose it is hard to ignore his full complement of honor guard in their bright coats,” Javier says with a smile. 

Yuzuru smiles back. “There is that,” he agrees.

“And what about you?” Javier asks.

“There are too many who wish to claim a piece of me for their own. Even the presence of my own guards would not deter them,” Yuzuru says.

The god of love, used to doing what he wishes, when he wishes, frowns at this. “You have allowed yourself to become a prisoner of your own fame,” he says.

Yuzuru smiles. “It is an easy price to pay, for my beloved ice. One I pay willingly.”

“Still. If you could, do you wish to go?” Javier asks.

“I cannot go so there is no point in wishing,” Yuzuru says.

“But do you?” Javier persists.

Yuzuru hesitates. “Yes.”

“Then let us go.”

“Javi…”

“Yuzu.”

“It is not only about me,” Yuzuru explains patiently. “My presence will disturb everyone. People will not be able to enjoy the festival. They would be craning their necks to see me, rushing around to get a better view rather than looking at the lights.”

“Then all you need do is not be noticed,” Javier shrugs.

“If we were going beyond my father’s lands, _perhaps_ people might not know me. But not in this town. Everyone here has seen me perform at least once. And once they’ve seen me perform, they do not forget.” Yuzuru says, not as a boast but as truth.

“Then you wear a mask,” Javier says.

Yuzuru makes an exasperated sound. “Javi, wearing a mask will not do much to conceal me when I have Kikuchi-san beside me and a handful of my father’s soldiers. People will still know it is me.”

“You leave the guards behind,” Javier says. “And Kikuchi-san is not here.” 

“I cannot leave the palace without attendants or guards!” Yuzuru exclaims.

“You can. You will be with me,” Javier says simply. “You will be safe in my charge,” he adds before Yuzuru could voice his objections. “Will you trust me?” 

“I would,” Yuzuru says hesitantly, “but even so, I do not have a mask,” he finishes almost longingly.

Javier reaches inside his cloak and pulls forth a mask. It is bone white, decorated in gold filigree. Yuzuru reaches for it and places it over his face. It covers only the right side, leaving the other side free. 

“How do I look?” he asks.

“Like a tragic hero,” Javier says with a smile.

“I can live with that.”

* * *

The castle itself is illuminated, of course, doing its part for the festival. There are hundreds of lanterns set on the ground and on window sills and stone surfaces. Stonewalls, arches, bridges, paths are all lighted from underneath, casting shadows above. 

They slip through the traders’ gate. Yuzuru shying away from the posted guards, pulling the hood of his cloak farther down, hiding his masked face. But they don’t pay Javier (and by extension, Yuzuru) any attention, they never do. 

The two follow the lights that line the streets at ground level, leading to the town proper. Yuzuru is practically skipping in delight, previous misgivings all but forgotten. The lights lead to the wooded area, across the bridge, where the lanterns transform the trees into something haunting, otherworldly. 

They find the majority of the townspeople at a large clearing, amidst small hollow domes made of snow, little huts the highest of which only reach up to Javier’s knee, all lighted within by a single lantern. There are small children, shrieking with delight, building their own lopsided domes. Enterprising shopkeepers sell hot drinks or snacks. People walk around, enjoying the lights. 

Javier has to concede it does look magical. The lanterns turn the town and woods into something ethereal, the blanket of snow just adding to the mystique. 

Yuzuru sigh happily beside him, what can be seen of his face alight with delight. 

“You do not look so tragic now,” Javier say with a smile.

“I had forgotten how beautiful it is,” Yuzuru says, his words breathy, still in awe at the sight. 

“I am glad you are enjoying it.”

“It is beautiful,” Yuzuru says, eyes wide with wonder. 

“Yes, quite beautiful,” Javier says, watching Yuzuru, ignoring the lights for the glow in the young prince’s face.

Yuzuru finally turns to his companion. “Thank you, Javi,” he says with another soft, happy sigh.

“It is my pleasure,” Javier says gallantly.

“No, truly, Javi. It has been so long since I have done something like this. Being a prince is hard enough but the fame that comes with dancing...it is overwhelming at times.”

“Poor, little, rich boy,” Javier says.

Yuzuru catches the mocking note and flushes. “I do not mean to be flippant about the privileges I have. I am grateful that my status allows me to do what I can do. And I would not give it up for anything. It is only…” Yuzuru squares his shoulders and continues. “It is only that sometimes, not all the time, you see, but sometimes, I get lonely.” 

Yuzuru bites his lip. “I do not have many friends. Just Kikuchi-san. And with Saya gone, I do not have anyone at all.”

“That is not quite true, Yuzu,” Javi says.

“What do you mean?” Yuzuru asks.

“You have me,” Javier says gently. “You will always have me.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Javier thinks that Yuzuru’s smile far outshines all the lanterns lit that night.

* * *

They spend some time walking around the lighted domes, enjoying the tranquil beauty around them. Yuzuru wants to sample some of the food being sold in the stalls but, blushing and stammering, realizes he does not have any money (he never had need to carry a purse before). With an indulgent smile, Javier ends up paying for them. Yuzuru eats the food with gusto and little difficulty despite the mask he has on. 

“It shall be spring again soon,” Yuzuru says. They were standing by the bridge, looking at the lights across the water. 

“I know. I can feel it,” Javi agrees.

“Will you have to leave soon?” Yuzuru asks.

Javier nods. “My duty calls to me.”

“But not quite yet?” Yuzuru asks hopefully.

“No, Yuzu, not quite yet,” Javier says with a smile.

“Did you ever finish it? Your errand from before?” Yuzuru asks, as if suddenly remembering.

“Hmmm. Not yet,” Javi says.

“Javi! It has been two years,” Yuzuru exclaims, laughing.

“Do not remind me. I have taken to hiding from my mother,” Javi says sardonically.

“Why do you not just do it then?” Yuzuru asks, curious, head tilted to one side. 

Javier looks at him, countenance much too somber in contrast to Yuzuru’s peals of laughter. “I find it distasteful. It would be like throwing the finest, most precious of silks to be trampled in the mud. A waste of what is rare and beautiful.”

Javier reaches up to cup the side of Yuzuru’s face. “I would instead treasure it, as it is meant to be treasured.”

“What will you do?” Yuzuru asks softly.

“I must do what my mother commands,” Javier says soberly, smoothing his thumb over Yuzuru’s cheek. “But that is for another day, a later time,” he says firmly, as if shaking off unpleasant thoughts. “Today is for you and the festival of lights,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you again for bringing me, Javi,” Yuzuru says sweetly.

“No, Yuzu. It is the least I can do for the pleasure you give me, watching you dance.” 

“When you leave, how long will you be gone this time?”

“Some time. But I shall not be away as long as I had before. I shall not forget again.”

“Forget what?”

“The passage of time. I shall be back again as soon as my duties allow me,” Javier says.

Yuzuru nods, satisfied.

He turns and walks a little ahead, back towards the palace, knowing that Javier will follow. Yuzuru reaches back, palms upturned. Javier leans in to take his hands in his.

Yuzuru feels the touch and walks on, a small smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a chapter in honor of our SEVEN TIME EUROPEAN FIGURE SKATING CHAMPION. Wooot! Wooot!
> 
> Also, excuse the little bit of geographical confusion. This is supposed to be set within Greek Mythology but somehow Yuzu's kingdom does Japanese winter festivals. Let's just say that the powers of the God of Love knows no mortal borders ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
